


my tendon caught between your teeth

by doctor_whatthefuck



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Cervix Penetration, Come Inflation, Dehumanisation, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Mild Gore, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Objectification, Organ Removal, Size Difference, Size Kink, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24320866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_whatthefuck/pseuds/doctor_whatthefuck
Summary: The best toys are always custom-made.
Relationships: Jared Hopworth/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 11
Kudos: 183





	my tendon caught between your teeth

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE TAGS _PLEASE._ details of what actually goes down in the end note, for people who want fair warning. if ur here from the eye horror server thank u ily i couldnt have done this without u, but also the first one of u fuckers to say j****m in the comments gets sniped  
> jon's genitals are referred to as 'cunt' and 'entrance', and 'cock', with some 'cervix' and 'womb' thrown in for good measure. author is a trans guy  
> title from meat by poppy

Jon has no idea where they are. The room is large and dark, furniture all ridiculously oversized – where the hell does Hopworth get it? – including the massive, thick table he’s just been tossed on. He shoves himself upright, winded and wheezing, and freezes when Jared Hopworth points one huge finger at him.

“Stay,” he growls out, and Jon does. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he’s suddenly sure that Jared _knows_ that, can see through his shirt and skin and ribs and into the meat of him.

“You came looking for me,” Jared says, crossing his arms and staring Jon down. “Why?”

“I wasn’t looking for you!” Jon snaps, immediately wishing he could bite back his tone. Jared certainly doesn’t look impressed. Jon takes a steadying breath. “I was… looking for statements. Something to – I’ve been trying, but I’m starving.”

Jared shrugs, face blank and impassive, and Jon sinks into himself, deflating. Of course Jared, who pulls bones out of living flesh with gusto, doesn’t give a damn about Jon turning predator.

“The Eye normally helps me,” he continues, “guides me to people who have a story to tell. It must have been hooked on my rib, the one you have – I thought it felt different this time, but I… I didn’t know it was you.”

Jared grunts. “Fair enough. Good job actually, cause I’ve been meaning to settle something with you.” His lips pinch together. “You promised me freedom, Archivist. Then you dropped me off a cliff into a river. I nearly drowned.”

An icy pit opens up in Jon’s belly. “That – that wasn’t me! I told Helen to let you go, she’s just – she’s the Distortion, she likes to play games.”

Jared shrugs again. “Don’t really care who said what, I still ended up in the river.” His eyes, the most human-looking part of him, bore into Jon. “After what your mate with the corridors did to me, I think I deserve some payback.”

“I’m not sure I know what you want-“ Jon breaks off as Jared starts towards him, eating up the distance between them in two strides. He flinches back, but it just makes Jared snicker.

“You’ll be paying up, Archivist. A pound of flesh.” Jared grins at his own joke, before reaching out and grabbing Jon’s shirt.

Jon pins his arms desperately to his sides, and Jared laughs and _tears_ his shirt off, laughing again at Jon’s shocked yelp. Jon curls his arms around himself protectively, already shaking.

He’s a small man, always has been, and he’s honestly never cared. Jon is possessed of enough self-assurance to have a presence larger than his physical height would suggest, and normally that’s enough for him.

Here, now, he feels _tiny_. Powerless, helpless. How can he possibly defend yourself against this mountain of muscle and twisted bone?

“Pretty little thing,” Jared growls out, huge had cupping his jaw and pulling it to the side. Jon freezes up, every muscle tensing. Jared smiles at him, oddly indulgent. “Really little. That’s gonna be an issue.”

“Please,” Jon whispers, voice deserting him. “Please don’t.”

Jared’s smile grows, wider and wider, much too wide – no-one should have that many teeth. “Don’t worry, I can fix it. You’ll like it, Archivist, hungry beast that you are. Fill you up properly at last.”

“No,” Jon gasps out. He has no idea what Jared could possibly be planning, but he is absolutely certain it will be horrific. As if he has a cassette player behind his ears, snatches of statements float through his mind. Sebastian Adekoya, Gregory Pryor, Ross Davenport; all the awful things they saw, the things that happened to them. The coroner’s description of Sebastian Adekoya’s body swells in his mind, and his eyes burn with horrified tears.

“Do you eat anymore, Archivist?” Jared asks, and Jon blinks uncomprehendingly up at him.

“I- what?”

“Food,” Jared says, slow and mocking. “Do you need to eat food anymore?”

“No,” Jon replies through trembling lips.

Jared grunts. “Good. More room to work with.” He reaches out and places his hand on Jon’s belly. For a moment he seems to just study it, rubbing the skin under his fingers almost gently, while Jon pants and tries not to pull away. Then he _pushes_.

Jon _screams_ as Jared’s hand sinks into his abdomen. There are no words for the sensation, his flesh entered without being torn, nerves shoved aside to make room for something achingly solid. Even worse than the pain is the numbness when Jared reaches the organs that don’t have pain receptors, only the awful leaden ache of body parts forced out of place to warn that Jared is pulling and twisting at the very meat of Jon, rummaging around in his belly like a bag of groceries. The cacophony of screaming nerve endings makes spots dance before Jon’s eyes, and he can’t hear whatever noises are being wrenched from his throat over the roaring of blood in his ears.

Jared’s hand slides out of his chest with the most sickening lurch, muscle and skin screaming as they’re forced to part and allowed to sag back into place. Jon is just beginning to gasp with relief when he sees the bloody, oozing chunk of flesh cupped in Jared’s hand.

It looks – _oh Lord_ – it’s his liver.

The rushing blood overtakes Jon’s vision, and everything goes mercifully black.

~~~~~

When he comes back to himself, he’s still stretched out on the table. His muscles are loose and shaky with the aftermath of pain, a sensation he really shouldn’t be so familiar with. Worse, he feels… empty. Strangely, impossibly empty, like he’s a doll, skin stretched over hollow porcelain. Like he could be shattered. He wants desperately to hug himself, soothe some of the horrid lurching _space_ , but he doesn’t dare move his arms from his sides, doesn’t dare open his tight-closed eyes. He is absolutely certain that he doesn’t want to feel what’s been done to him.

Christ, his _bones_ feel wrong. There is definitely something wrong with his pelvis – it feels off balance, _wider_. His legs sit differently where they’re hanging off the edge of the table.

They’re also naked. His trousers and pants are gone, probably destroyed like his shirt, leaving him exposed to the cold room. The space between his legs feels tender, sore and buzzing. Jon whines a little, sick with dread.

“Awake again?” Jared asks, striding over from the little sink he’d been washing up in. The rag he wipes his hands dry on comes away stained pink, and Jon snaps his eyes shut again. Heavy footsteps draw closer, and Jon trembles, frozen in fear. Even the slight movement of his shuddering feels _wrong_ , the shifting making it clear that he’s lighter somehow, that things are missing. Even the nausea of that knowledge feels different.

“What did you do?” he rasps – at least his voice still works, at least he can still breathe. He must still have his lungs then – he can feel them heaving under his ribs – and his heart is still there, pounding in his chest.

An awful symphony of pops comes from Jared’s direction, and when Jon’s eyes pop open he sees Jared finish a shrug. He looks even more inhuman now, probably having drawn some power from Jon’s mutilation – a mountain of warped meat, humming with animal strength. “I made room,” he says simply.

Jon’s lips part around another horrified protestation, but Jared reaches him before he can speak and, without ceremony, pushes his thumb past Jon’s lips. Jon bites down on instinct, hand enough to taste blood, but Jared just laughs, forces his thumb further in as Jon chokes on the blood, old and new and thick on his tongue.

Jared studies him, face calm and placid, before jamming his thumb down Jon’s throat. His huge hand cages Jon’s skull when he tries to wrench his head back, leaving Jon unable to escape from the invasive push. He gags helplessly, tearing up and trying desperately to move, but his muscles haven’t settled into their new positions yet, and nothing will obey him.

Finally, Jared takes pity and pulls his thumb back, leaving Jon gasping and coughing, swallowing convulsively so he doesn’t throw up – if he even can throw up, anymore. Jared chucks him under the chin, grinning far too widely, before moving his hand down to cup Jon’s cunt. The bitemark is gone, as if it had never been.

That huge thumb presses against his cock, slick and broad and petting over his shaft. Jon’s toes curl before he can catch himself; it feels far, far better than it should, a sweet, hot ache. He clamps his lips shut on a moan.

As he rubs absently at the soft, sensitive head of Jon’s cock, setting him shuddering, Jared’s other fingers slide down his cunt. So easily, and Jared chuckles as he draws his hand back, showing Jon the glint of slick on his fingers.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a slut,” he says, grinning wickedly. “Guess it really is the quiet ones.” He only smiles wider when Jon glares up at him, face flaring with heat.

“Don’t worry,” Jared continues, reaching to shove the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms down, and pulling out his cock. “I got what you need.”

It’s _monstrous_. Almost as thick as Jon’s whole body, must reach up to his ribcage. Just looking at it makes Jon’s head swim. Sickening body transformation powers or not, there is _no way_.

“Th-that can’t fit,” he stammers, trying to push himself away from Jared, further up the table. The movement jars his new, body and he freezes, gasping through a wave of sick horror.

Jared smirks. “It will now.” He steps closer, pinning Jon to the table with one hand, and Jon cries out as the pressure of a hand on his abdomen makes awfully clear just how much _less_ is inside him now. He feels like Jared just laid hands on his naked spine.

This is permanent. It can’t be anything _but_ permanent; Jon is certain that whatever was taken from him won’t be kept to replace, that Jared has no desire to put him back together now he’s broken him.

“Please,” he begs, not even sure what he’s pleading for, just that he cannot bear this, not another moment. Jared only laughs, wrapping his fingers round his cock and positioning it against Jon’s entrance. The huge blunt head rubbing at him feels humiliatingly good, and Jon shudders through a wave of terrified arousal.

Jared grins. “Shouldn’t worry so much, Archivist. I said you’d like it.” Then the head of his cock presses forward, and Jon gasps, clenches down, trying desperately to keep Jared out.

For a moment, he thinks whatever Jared tried to do has failed. But then the toe-curling stretch starts, his cunt forced open, impossibly widening to let Jared inside him, and Jon screams as Jared’s cockhead pops into his body.

“Still tight,” Jared muses, “but that’s good. Just makes it feel better.” He grins and pushes, and more follows, more than he’s ever had in him before in moments, and Jared is still going.

Jared lets out a deep, satisfied sigh as he leisurely forces Jon open. “That’s nice. Haven’t been able to do this properly in a while.”

“Christ,” Jon chokes out. It’s so hard to take a breath past the incredible pressure, filling him up – how could Jared possibly have made this much room in him? He must be about to tear, rip right open, gutted-

Except he doesn’t appear to have any guts, not now. Jared’s cock is the only thing inside him, everything else removed to make space for the massive length feeding into his cunt.

“Look at you,” Jared grins down at him, his gaze hot. “Perfect cocksleeve. Should have done this ages ago. Mind you, I don’t think just anyone would look this good all filled up.” A huge hand cups his face, and Jon presses into it, too overwhelmed to refuse the scant comfort.

“That’s right,” Jared growls, and his other hand curls around Jon’s side. His palm dwarfs one of Jon’s hipbones, fingers spanning Jon’s newly widened pelvis. He curls his _whole fucking hand_ around Jon’s body, using his grip to pull Jon even further onto his cock, a few more inches sliding into him until Jared’s hips are nearly flush with Jon’s. His cockhead is snug with the cervix that Jon apparently still has, a painful, perfect pressure. Jon whines with it, and Jared chuckles.

“Good little toy,” he croons, and Jon shakes and pants. There is so _much_ inside him, that emptiness completely sated. It is horrifically good to be so utterly impaled, setting every nerve hot and singing.

The huge hand that had been keeping Jon pinned to the table moves back to his abdomen, stroking over the skin. Jon jolts and whimpers at the pressure, his flesh moulded around the massive intrusion.

“Look, Archivist,” Jared orders, and Jon shakes his head. Not that it matters; Jared cradles his skull and tilts it down, forcing Jon to stare in morbid fascination at the grotesque bulge of his stomach. Physical proof of what Jared has done to him – he really is little more than a cocksleeve, now, perfectly sized for the monster running possessive fingers over his distended belly.

Then Jared starts to move, and Jon throws his head back with a wail. The friction, the obscene stretch of his entrance as Jared’s cock leaves him, it’s so much, and then Jared pushes back in, stuffing him full again.

With a grunt, Jared scoops him off the table, and Jon sags in his grasp. Jared supports him easily, massive hands holding his body like a doll, and he uses his grip to pull Jon up his cock, almost to the tip, before sliding him back down it again. Jon can’t move, can’t breathe; he just hangs there as Jared moves him easily up and down his cock, pulling himself off with Jon’s limp body.

At some point, Jon starts crying in earnest, and he can’t make himself stop. It’s too much, too good, too horrific – not that it matters. Even if he passes out, he’s sure Jared will carry on fucking into him, will use him for as long as he wants. Each awful thrust drives thought further out of his head, until he’s just a body, hanging loose and open for Jared to force himself into again and again.

So Jon gives up. He stops trying to move, closes his eyes and lets the crashing waves of sensation wash him clean out of his head. It’s so easy to give himself over to the endless heated stretch, to allow himself to be moved on and off the massive cock impaling him. To let himself be used.

A grunt is the only warning he gets before Jared pulls him back down harder than ever, and Jon _screams,_ going rigid at the lightening strike of twisted pleasure-pain. Distantly, he feels Jared’s hips settle flush with his, hears Jared’s satisfied groan, but his senses are overwhelmed with the addictive ache of being split open completely, utterly invaded. There is a cock in his fucking _womb_ , and Jon has never felt so little like a person, so much like meat. He clenches down on it, insides fluttering desperately.

When Jared pulls back past his cervix and slams him down again, impaling him to the hilt, Jon feels his orgasm torn from his aching flesh like another organ. He’s only half-conscious of Jared laughing as he jerks and shakes through waves of agonising pleasure, of being fucked brutally through each one. Each frantic clench down on the cock inside him sears through him until he’s left melting, utterly limp in Jared’s hands.

Jared is still going, still pumping his body like a fleshlight. He’s speeding up now, each thrust so forceful it stuns Jon, vision whiting out every time Jared ruthlessly pops his cockhead past his cervix. Finally he yanks Jon all the way off, leaving him gasping and empty, before plunging all the way back in again. The sudden, overwhelming rush makes Jon scream again, and Jared moans, loud and shameless. He holds Jon tight to his hips as he spasms, all his grotesque and shifting muscle rippling. Then-

There are no nerve endings in his uterus, Jon knows that, but Jared must have added some because he can _feel_ it when Jared comes inside him. A rush of wet heat, great gushes of liquid pumped inside his broken body, filling him up. In moments he’s past comfort, stretched to bursting, his whole body flushed with the warmth of Jared’s come.

Jared hums in pleasure, deep and reverberating through Jon’s chest. He staggers over to the table and sinks onto it, heedless of how it creaks under his weight, or of how Jon cries out as the mass inside him is shifted, gravity impaling him even further on Jared’s softening length.

“Look at that,” Jared croons, voice rough with his afterglow, and Jon doesn’t have the strength left to disobey. He stares down at his bulging belly, huge and heavy and distended with Jared’s come, plugged inside him with the mass of Jared’s inhuman cock. When he shakes with horror, the nauseating shudder of the liquid inside him immediately makes him regret it.

“Perfect,” Jared tells him, thick fingers combing his sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. “Beautiful little fleshlight, perfect toy for me. You feel so good.” His smile seems genuinely fond. “Good job I’m keeping you, really. Won’t find anyone else who can use you like that.”

Jon’s too tired to be horrified any further. He clings to Jared and tries to control his shivering, tries to breathe past the pain and the fullness. Tries to stop crying.

**Author's Note:**

> jared removes most of jons unused digestive system and expands his vagina to take up his abdominal cavity. these changes are permanent. some organ removal is described graphically, but jon passes out for most of it.
> 
> and on that note, official, utterly serious and not at all crackily horrifying fanart!!: [ he he](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/663415687540244490/713495943953252372/SPOILER_Screen_Shot_2020-05-22_at_11.58.04_PM.png)


End file.
